


Limbo

by NeoSoul



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A happy family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Bullying, Depression, Eating Disorders, Gen, High School, Jack Has Issues, Jack and his three dads, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Self Harm, Sort Of, the world isn't ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 22:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20160832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoSoul/pseuds/NeoSoul
Summary: The world isn't ending anymore, and Jack finds it hard to integrate into normal life.  School is hard, and the other students don't seem too fond of Jack.





	Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> Experimenting with an omniscient POV, also just a little one shot about Jack  
The idea actually happened while driving - so here we are

The world was finally not on the verge of ending. Jack wasn’t dead and he had a soul. The Empty had broken its’ deal with Cas. Dean got to say “I love you” to Cas, whom reciprocated the words. Crowley had taken Hell back from chaos after somehow finding his way back to life, and Chuck finally learned common sense - which caused him to run again, as he tended to do so.  
Things were back to “normal”, as close to normal as they could be. Demons still liked to roam, angels were still dicks, and monsters still seemed to rampage, but it wasn’t anything like having an angry Michael from a different universe trying to start another apocalypse.  
It reminded the brothers of the time where the biggest evil was Yellow Eyes, where they’d road trip to the case, stay in dingy motels, while trying to find their dad. It was bittersweet. There was truly a question of “what now?”.  
It had been a few months, and they had all decided to take a longer break...a vacation as one might say. They finally tried to find the piece of mind that they needed, even trying therapy to work through all the awful feelings that they sat with.  
After a few months of complete time off, they had decided to start hunting again, but only throughout Kansas and a few neighboring states. Nothing that would have them travel for more than a day or two. It was just a way to integrate themselves back into life. They couldn’t just get normal jobs, and live normal lives. They were meant to hunt, it was all they could do, so it had become their therapy.  
The biggest decision was to put Jack into school. He had learned to control his powers, and even be quiet about everything that had happened. It was Sam’s decision, as he knew it probably was a good idea to just get Jack some form of schooling before giving the option of college.  
They got everything that was needed, and enrolled him as a Sophomore in high school. A school close to the bunker.  
Jack wasn’t super into the idea, he wanted to hunt like the others, but Cas somehow convinced him to at least try.  
Dean wasn’t into the idea, but that was just because Dean was Dean. He wanted Jack on hunts, as Jack had saved their asses many times. Cas had to remind Dean that he was an angel with full power. They’d be fine.  
The first few days of school, Jack didn’t like it, and he tended to be blunt about it to most of the teachers - they didn’t like it all that much. They never tried to show distaste, as they were under the assumption that he was homeschooled, so he didn’t have the social skills that most of the other students had.  
The other kids were really the part that Jack hated. His teachers were nice, but the other kids seemed opposite. They weren’t physical, which was probably a good thing, because Jack promised he wouldn’t use his powers for the time he spent at school. They did tease him, mainly because of how awkward he was, as it placed a target on his back. It seemed to hurt worse, as Jack wanted to make friends with the other students. They would act as if they were nice, but just constantly use backhanded compliments to tease Jack.  
He wanted so often to just chuck them into walls, but he didn’t. He took the insults, and he basically just let them swallow him.  
Dean was the one who tended to pick him up when they weren’t on a far off hunt. He’d drive by in the Impala, usually music would be blaring, and Jack was relieved to hear the familiar engine. He’d get in, and this was the time where Jack would talk about the bullying. He’d complain the most about the one girl, with the long brown hair, who’d point out how weird it was to eat at least two candy bars for lunch. Jack couldn’t figure out why, and no one would tell him. He didn’t only eat chocolate, it was only when Dean let him pack his lunch. Sam and Cas actually tried to explain the importance of nutrition.  
Dean always told Jack to ignore it. They were just trying to get on his nerves, and if he didn’t pay attention, they’d stop. Jack believed it, hoping that it would get better.  
Sometimes Sam would be the one to pick him up, and he would try to be a counselor. Jack didn’t like that any more. He just wanted the bullying to stop.  
Cas was the one who would help him through the homework. Jack didn’t like the math part of it. He didn’t understand why he needed to square A and B to get C, but then still had to take the root of that. It just frustrated him. He liked English much more. He got to read this play on a king named Lear. He was corrupt, just like Lucifer had been. Jack liked the parallels between the two, which made English his favorite class. He also was on pretty good terms with the teacher as well.  
He also liked French and the theatre class he had wanted to take as his elective. He didn’t like anything else. Gym was awful. He liked running, but only when chasing a werewolf or some ghoul, when it was for a grade, he just felt awful. He wasn’t slow, not by a long shot, but he was still human. He would get tired, and it wasn’t fun.  
Biology wasn’t fun either, because they never said anything about Nephilim, just humans. Jack felt even more out of place, and sometimes he would ask almost suspicious questions.  
Health was just as strange. It was weird, how they talked about the body, but Jack just didn’t really find it helpful. He just got confused by all the big terms.  
August was just horrible. Jack couldn’t fit in, not with the hand-me-down flannels from Dean. It was hot, but Jack felt more comfortable in the flannel, just to hide himself.  
He noticed how the weather started to change in September, and the leaves changed. He always liked the way they changed.  
The bullying didn’t get much worse throughout September, but it definitely didn’t get better. Jack found that ignoring it wasn’t helping. He still felt awful when it happened, and now that the brown-haired girl - her name was Ryan, and she definitely didn’t seem to like Jack. It was weird. He had said hi to her on the first day, trying to be nice, and after he realized they had Geography together, he wanted to try and befriend her.  
She just found it weird, as well as him.  
He found a solution to the lunch situation, and once he stopped eating lunch, no one seemed to say anything about it. He just ended up hungry at dinner, much the dismay of Sam, Dean, and Cas. They asked questions regarding the whole “lunch strike”, but it didn’t seem to help. Jack just said it was weird, so he stopped.  
Sam was Sam, and worried. Cas was confused, and Dean didn’t care too much, as long as Jack was eating.  
October 16th was the day where the class was being weighed in gym. It seemed normal, but Jack didn’t even know what it was. No one had ever talked about it. Dean maybe twice, but as a joke.  
He found himself standing on the surface, and saw a number. He didn’t understand the number. One-hundred-and-forty-five pounds. It seemed large, but maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know. The teacher seemed indifferent, so it was probably fine.  
It wasn’t until later, when he was interrogated by Ryan’s posse. They had laughed at the number, but why? Jack didn’t know why it mattered so much, but it hurt.  
Jack waited for Dean, and when the blaring music came close, Jack couldn’t help but feel relief.  
Dean asked about his day, and Jack explained gym class - what had happened.  
He then asked if the number was too much, and Dean told him it wasn’t a lot at all. Not for his height. It reassured Jack, but the thought lingered in his mind.  
Dinner was strange. Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too much. He just wanted to be left alone at school, and maybe this would help. Jack tried eating less at dinner, hoping it would maybe be the solution.  
No one seemed to notice, but Dean kept a closer eye on him, just in case something has started up. He had heard of most of the stories from the first two months. He knew that school wasn’t easy on Jack, but he also knew that Jack was strong. He promised they’d take him on a hunt during the fall break. It would be a good break for everyone.  
Jack started finding there to be a numbing that came with not eating as much, and throughout the next month it got worse. He never ate lunch, sometimes he’d skip over breakfast, and if he did, well, it’d be small. They never had a crazy rigid food schedule in the bunker as they began to take on more hunts. When Jack was alone, he’d usually just go for as long as possible without food, and then find something he deemed “safe” to try and fill the empty feeling.  
Winter was rapidly approaching. Jack had gone on his first hunt since they saved the world, and even met Crowley while hunting some rogue demon squad. It was a nice callback to an old life that Jack really did miss. A world that wasn’t ending seemed so strange to him.  
He found that after a particularly long time of being alone, while the three were off on a long hunt, that he had changed. Jack had done research on his own, about weight and losing it. He bought a scale and a notebook, hoping to track everything he could. This was beginning to consume him, and with it, well, it made it much easier to take the other students and their teasing. All he cared about was getting the numbers to go down.  
When Sam, Dean, and Cas came back from their trip, Jack knew he couldn’t let them see what he was doing. He started hiding the scale in remote places, the notebook was locked, and he started making excuses for why he wasn’t eating as much as he used to. The weight loss was easy to hide, as Dean’s clothes tended to swallow him anyway. Jack had grown sick, but it wasn’t to the point of complete desperation, it was barely recognizable to anyone.  
Winter was awful when it came. Jack hadn’t expected the cold that came with this. He had read about it, but never expected it to actually happen. He didn’t like it, but it seemed there was no getting out of it. It seemed that even being an all-powerful being didn’t help him. He got the side-effects, just like everyone else.  
It had now been three months of this, and Jack noticed everything. He noticed the way his spine dug more into the bed when he laid on it. He noticed the clothes starting to become precarious, and no one had a belt that could fit him. He knew he’d need his own clothes soon, as things were no longer really staying up. Something he never predicted.  
School had let out for winter break, leaving Jack to be at home all day. They had all done a hunt during the first few days of the break, taking Jack along. It was a little more awkward. He had to leave his scale and his notebook in his room, and he’d have to somehow keep restricting while having basically all three of his dads watching him. They knew something was up, but Jack just said he was adjusting. Life was so different. He reassured them it would eventually get better.  
Jack found it nice to finally use his powers to defend everyone again. He was happy to be of help, even if it did take all energy to do so. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was, but the lack of food was starting to take a toll on him. It was almost scary.  
Christmas was something they had never celebrated, but with the end of the world not happening anytime soon - it seemed they had plans. Sam didn’t really like the idea, but he had come around to the idea. Inviting some old friends, familiar faces. Jodi, and all of them, Garth, they even asked Crowley if he wanted to join them. It was one of the strangest ideas they’ve had, but it only seemed the right thing to do, after everything that they had put him through.  
Jack was awkward. He found the large array of food terrifying, and the fact that he couldn’t hide under layers of clothes even more so. Sam insisted they don’t all hide in layers of jackets, so Jack had to let others see his body, even just a bit. A flannel wasn’t enough cover. He basically felt naked.  
The bunker looked so different with decorations. A tree even stood by the large blue window. It was the most normal thing they’d pretty much ever done. Lights were strung along the stairs, and there was even a wreath, not made of meadowsweet, on the door. Jack loved it, really.  
When it came time for food, Jack seemed scared. He apparently was visibly nervous, which mainly caused concern for Cas. He was asked many times if he was fine. Jack said he was, and reassured Cas so many times.  
Jack was picking at some bread on his plate, while everyone else had their plates piled high with everything they could ever imagine; Cas even wanted to pretend, just to not ruin the mood, but it still tasted awful.  
Jack could feel all eyes upon him, and some were concerned. When he looked up there was only a single pair of eyes on him. Cas, who seemed to have nothing better to do than stare at his son, who was picking a single roll of bread apart, but not eating anything.  
Dean seemed to point it out later, once the massive amount of dessert food had been served. Jack was in the kitchen, helping to take some of the food out. He had prepared some of it, as it put him at ease. Watching others eat, while he was there, starving.  
Dean asked Jack if he was ok, and Jack said he was but Dean couldn’t quite believe it.  
“You know, you’ve dropped weight.” Dean had pointed out, but Jack just denied it.  
“Have I?” Jack asked politely. He tried to deny the whole thing, but Dean seemed so adamant to continue to rail, at least for a few more moments.  
“Yeah, and it’s a bit concerning.” Dean stated, but Jack had just ignored him, and went along his way. His cheeks burnt red from anxiety as he walked back out. He sat down, and even with Dean watching, he didn’t eat anything. It was just not worth the aftermath.  
Jack was washing the plates with Sam, who looked towards him, as his sleeve slipped just enough to see how boney his wrist had become. The veins seemed to bulge just a bit out of skin. The skin seemed to stretch so thin over his hands, causing the bones to jut just as much.  
It was the first time that Sam had noticed the weight loss, but he didn’t feel like prying at the moment. It would ruin the magic of the night. Jack didn’t need the stress of confrontation.  
The rest of the night seemed to go so smoothly. Everyone somehow had received something, and Jack had a brand new notebook. He knew what it was for the moment his hands touched the leather binding.  
He said he loved it, and that he was tired. It was an excuse to hide in his room, so he wouldn’t be around the snacks on the table. Dinner was hard enough, but snacks were just there, taunting him. It would end horribly if he stayed.  
Sam mentioned the wrist to Dean, who seemed to pass it on to Cas, who seemed more worried now. It seemed they all were starting to catch on.  
It was hard to ignore it, but the party was going. A few movies were watched, and a lot of alcohol was consumed. It seemed everyone in the room, who had witnessed multiple endings of the world, had forgotten their differences, and even Crowley had pushed aside his own beef, to be with those he had taken a liking to.  
The night turned to early morning, and one by one, everyone either left, or fell asleep on couches or spare beds. Dean didn’t make it to his room, and Sam dragged himself to his own in the nick of time.  
The early morning began to grow, and Jack awoke at the usual time of eight. He felt a pang of hunger in his stomach, but it was normal to wake with such a feeling. He had to go pee, and then weigh himself. Jack had dragged himself to the bathroom in a t-shirt and his boxers. It wasn’t until he was midway through the morning piss that someone else walked in. Jack froze. If it was Cas, he was dead. If it was Sam, he would be in for a long hour. If it was Dean, he was dead. Jack remained in the bathroom for a few moments, but it seemed whoever was in there didn’t leave. Jack realized he would need to reluctantly slink out at one point.  
He slowly opened the stall door, just to see who was on the other side. It was a large relief to know that it was just Garth.  
Jack quickly washed his hands and walked back to his room without even making eye contact. It was a success in his book.  
He had pulled the scale from its’ ever changing hiding spot, and he stepped upon it.  
117.  
A change from the 145 a few months ago. A good change, and before anyone saw, Jack wrote the number down, and hid everything again.  
He couldn’t help but smile at the recent success.  
The break seemed to end, and Jack went back with a new confidence. Maybe he would be left alone for once. He already seemed to find himself blending in, as if he was small enough to just disappear.  
The bullying didn’t end. It lessened for sure, as he was no longer the new kid. It wasn’t a novelty to bully him, just a bit of boredom relief when they needed it. Jack complained less during the car rides home, or during calls on bus rides. He had started to recluse himself. He learned to lie, as things had started to become far too obvious.  
The night of Jack’s first binge was a Tuesday in February. He had spent so long diligently following the meal plans, so it came on so suddenly. Jack had been hungry for ages now. A hunger he couldn’t quite shake. It was like something had him, something internally, and it was twisting his insides.  
Jack couldn’t take it, so he found himself in the kitchen at two am, trying to dig up a box of cereal without making noise. He didn’t want to get the attention of Cas, who didn’t sleep at all. If anyone would hear him, it would be Cas.  
He promised himself it would be a single bowl. It would be enough, he assumed. A single bowl.  
One turned to two, then three, then four, then it was the box. Jack quickly stuck it into the trash, as panic began to set in. He was scared, but it seemed to not be enough.  
Throughout the sadness, he searched for other crap, just to fill the hunger that seemed to grow worse. So much worse. He had known there were consequences for starving, but he thought he’d be different, that he’d never feel them because he was a Nephilim, and not human.  
But he was human, at least part of him, and it seemed to be stronger at this moment.  
He crinkled some wrappers, as he unwrapped some old candy bars, and then footsteps were heard. He quickly tried to hide the wrappers in his white shirt.  
Cas had walked in, and looked quite confused.  
“I was hungry.” Jack stated, bluntly. He noticed Cas staring at the empty cereal box. He swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“Wasn’t that unopened?” Cas asked, confused. Jack just quickly shook his head.  
“No, it was already half-empty.” Jack lied. He could feel his cheeks turning red, as he felt his stomach begin the pain again. His face contorted.  
“Are you ok? You haven’t been yourself lately.” Cas pointed out, and Jack just said he was fine. He was fine.  
Except for the unending hunger, the cold, the way his hair seemed to collect on the hairbrush, the weird feeling he would get in his body every once in a while. He was fine, really.  
“Yeah. Really, I’m fine.” Jack reassured Cas, but it seemed that wasn’t enough. Cas ended up sitting across from Jack, again. Jack snuck the wrapped candy bars into the pockets of his shorts.  
“Look. I know that school hasn’t been easy on you, really, it’s been quite the opposite.” Cas explained. Jack just looked down at his wrists, observing the way his bones moved under the thin skin.  
“They don’t like me, and I don’t understand why.” Jack explained. He felt the guilt rising in his throat, and he felt as if he might puke, but he read about that. He didn’t want to do it. It sounded pretty horrible.  
“Sometimes it’s hard to be around new people, especially after everything you’ve been through. It’s ok to not feel like you belong, especially because you’re not human.” Cas explained. Jack had stopped thinking of purging, and started to grow drowsy again.  
“I know. It is getting better now.” Jack explained, and decided to drag himself back to bed, before the morning weigh-in crossed his mind in detail.  
It destroyed him, to see a higher number, but he knew why, so it was just a matter of getting back to starving. He had to be small enough, so he wouldn’t be bothered anymore.  
Warmth started to sprout, as March began. Jack could no longer hide under coats, and had to rely on jackets to hide him.  
Spring was always nice, as the weather would warm up, flowers would sprout, and the death of winter seemed to melt. March may only be the beginning, but it was already so alive. Unlike Jack, who still looked like he was sick with a flu. His skin still pale, and his eyes still dark.  
By the time he had entered the third trimester of the year, the bullying had almost completely diminished, as he integrated himself into the school. He was no longer new at all, just the weird skinny kid who never ate. He was now just struggling with himself, and the addiction to the starving. There were no longer any outside problems, just Jack facing Jack.  
Sometimes Dean would get angry, and shove food into Jack’s personal bubble. He’d bark “eat”, and Jack would reluctantly eat just enough to calm Dean down. It was rough, almost horrible. It would be horrible if he wasn’t still losing weight.  
It became a topic of conversation whenever Jack wasn’t in the room. If someone was at the bunker, a hunter, or even Crowley, there’d be a conversation. If Jack was in the room without the comfort of his jacket, there’d be eyes on him. His neck, with the jutting bones on his neck, or the skin that stretched about his collarbones.  
Jack heard the conversations, he’d listen in. Everyone had a different idea. Stress, being a nephilim, drugs. All the strange theories.  
The spring had fully come to life, and Jack was still in his flannels and jackets. Sam questioned it once or twice, Cas much more, but Jack found it easier to twist his words with Cas. He was able to just lie about stress from school, or just from being a nephilim.  
Sam and Dean seemed to believe Cas. They were skeptical yes, but they believed him, until one day, where Sam was in Jack’s room, cleaning the floors, and he saw something odd from underneath a chair. He thought maybe a blade of sorts, so he looked closer, and his heart had skipped a beat when he pulled the scale from its’ spot. The glass blinded him for a second, and then the truth rang too clear. Sam looked in the same spot to find the notebook. He began to flip through it, and found the numbers. The day it had started, and how it went down. The weeks after. Months, and to this day. Sam saw the start.  
145.  
The fall.  
104.  
The way it happened.  
750-850 a day, sometimes 4500, but that seemed rare.  
But not the reason, just numbers.  
Sam called Cas to the room. He showed Cas everything, and promised Cas to not blame himself. It was not his fault, it was no one’s fault.  
Cas still cursed himself for not noticing it earlier.  
Sam placed both the journal and the scale on the table, waiting for Dean to return with Jack.  
The large door opened, and Dean was walking beside Jack. Sam couldn’t help but take extra notice to the large flannel drooping over Jack’s shoulders, and the masses of extra fabric. He noticed how hollow Jack’s cheek were, and the way his neck tendons seemed to move when he talked. It was haunting, really. Sam could feel his own lump in his throat.  
Jack stopped when he saw what was on the table. Dean just felt his stomach drop. He looked at Cas and Sam with a worried look.  
“Jack, what’s all this?” Sam asked, his voice on the verge of cracking. He wasn’t the stable one in these situations.  
“Nothing, really.” Jack lied. He thought maybe it could work, to get them all off of his back. Dean gave him a stern look. Jack’s heart rate seemed to increase. He knew he was busted, but he didn’t want to stop. This was all too much, but if he’d break, well, it’d be awful.  
“All those numbers? This isn’t nothing Jack, it’s serious. I need you to talk.” Sam told Jack, who found himself wanting to hide. He couldn’t even look at that fancy glass scale, or the new leatherbound notebook.  
“I wanted to be healthier.” Jack lied again, halfway. He wanted to say everything, just like he used to, but the starving was a monster. He just lied now.  
“Well, it’s far from healthy now, huh?” Dean pointed out. Jack just pulled the sweater over his fingers. His cheeks were burning hot now.  
“I wanted it to stop. They were just being mean.” Jack explained. His sentences short. Dean felt his own shoulders drop. He knew of all these stories. How they had basically tortured him.  
“So the day you-you came into the car asking if you weighed too much, it was because of them?” Dean asked. Jack just nodded.  
“Yeah, they did.” Jack said. The facade of happiness began to fade, leaving Jack vulnerable. He wanted to cry, and with it break his barriers. It was all he wanted, but he couldn’t, not with everyone standing there like they were.  
“And now? Do you still think you’re too big?” Dean asked. Jack just looked blankly. He was far too scared for emotions, but truth rang true.  
“Yeah. I do.” Jack said, defeated. He took a seat. The tears he held, well, they burst the floodgate, and he felt the tears slowly inch down his cheeks.  
“Hey, it’s ok. This isn’t the end of the world, we’ll get you through this.” Sam stated, and the three of them pulled Jack in for a hug, careful not to put too much pressure on his now-frail-body.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me wants to go into detail on this - as I kept writing, I got more intrigued.  
I'm now sort of invested lol


End file.
